


Dust to Dust

by Bitrektual



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitrektual/pseuds/Bitrektual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief monologue of Glorfindel's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust to Dust

**Author's Note:**

> I used to roleplay Glorfindel on forums, and this was the history I wrote for him when I did. It's just kind of sitting around now, so I thought I'd share it. I own nothing save for the creative liberties I took to fill in the gaps. Middle Earth and all its characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Can you wonder what it must be like not being born, but rather, simply waking up and being? I suppose it must be a difficult thing to imagine for most, for all the beings that surround me today have been born and raised by families. My own beginning was so different and any who share it have long since faded into memory.

I remember stars, always the earliest and first of my memories; awakening and looking into the sky to see the beautiful and bright points of light. I suppose we all did. After all, why wouldn't a creature, new and innocent, look to the only light they had in the darkness. I remember weeping in their beauty, for theirs was the first beauty that my eyes were blessed to see. The first of much to come, though I did not yet know it.

We lived in the darkness, but it did not trouble us. We sang songs of praise to the beauty before our eyes and listened to the peaceful tune of water over rock, and there we dwelt in bliss for time uncountable. We wandered, we named the beauty before us, and we knew not of grief, or pain, or fear. Not yet...

Secondly, I remember change. Change that started with the coming of Oromë as he rode in and brought with him the Light of the Trees. Indescribable beauty was in his face, and though some ran and others hid, I stood curious and wondering as he approached. I and many others stood back in wariness, for he was not the first strange happening that we had seen. Elves had disappeared before this and shadows had plagued the surrounding darkness.

But Oromë was not of darkness, and the light in his face spoke of warmth and safety, and those of us brave enough stepped forward to see him. He sat among us and we lingered in his beauty and wonder in curiosity, like children eager to learn.

Next to come was our first taste of war, and we trembled in fear of what we beheld. The earth shook and the waters moved, and great lights appeared in the distance. It was great and terrible, and we didn't know what was happening, but upon its ending we were summoned to Valinor and we were afraid.

We had seen them in their wrath, but save for Oromë we had not seen their kindness and we were unwilling to trust them at first. Oromë came to us once more, however, and chose from us three to go to this land. They went forth and we waited anxiously for their return.

When they came back, they spoke of what they saw and knew, and thus we parted and never again were we one great people as we had been in the beginning. They spoke of beauty and peace, and I longed for it greatly. I joined with the smallest of three hosts, lead by Ingwë who became our king and we called ourselves the Vanyar.

The journey was long, but we came to beauty indescribable and wept in joy of what I saw. There I knew great peace and joy for many years. I dwelt in happiness in Valinor, beautiful and wonderful Valinor, during the Years of the Trees. Valinor is beyond words, and I don't know that I can do it justice. I had awoken into darkness, but I had been brought to a world of light. Never have I known such safe peace and calm as in those early years of my life, and never shall I know such peace again until I am returned for good, to stay and never leave again.

I was never an elfling in body, but I sometimes feel that in mind I grew and learned as a child might. After all, who were we in that darkness but children lost and waiting for guidance? For years we lived in this land, the days now measurable in time as the Light of the Two Trees waxed and waned. Life moved on and we grew and prospered. I watched as my people fell in love and made families. I saw children, babies, newborns... beautiful and wonderful creatures.

Such beauty I saw, beauty that I wanted to honour but I knew not how until I found myself drawing in the dirt and realized that I could do my share in praising the beauty before my eyes. Many sang, played music, but I took my passion out in drawing what I saw. Plants, buildings, babies, people... I loved it all and I wanted to express that love somehow. And so I sat and I drew as I watched kin prosper.

Then Fëanor created the Silmarils.

They were beautiful jewels, but held with them a terrible fate that none of us could have ever been prepared for. The Silmarils attracted the attention and lust of Melkor. Mistrust and discomfort spread among the elves and I didn't know what to do. How much time had we seen? How many days? Years? And now suddenly time seemed to pass so quickly, events unfolded in great speed. The Silmarils crafted by Fëanor were stolen and started events that would eventually make history. A history that I sometimes wish had left me in peace.

Finwë was the first of elf-kind to be slain, slain in cold blood by Melkor, and the trees were toppled. Our world was thrown into darkness. I grew afraid, but not because of the dark itself. I had known darkness before, but this was new. This time I knew that evil had caused it and I didn't know what would happen now. The death of the Two Trees was a heartbreaking loss, and in anger and spite Fëanor and his sons swore a terrible Oath and set out to regain the Silmarils that had been lost.

Their first task was to leave by ship to avoid loss, but the Ñoldor possessed no ships and so Fëanor and his sons tried to persuade our kin, the Teleri of Alqualondë, to give him their ships. The Teleri refused and so began the First Kinslaying. The chaos and death was a terrible thing and it made me sick at heart as I watched kin murder kin. The Ñoldor were banished.

Though I was among the Vanyar and free to remain with my people, I chose to go and share the Doom that was placed upon the Ñoldor. I was of the host of Turgon, whom I had met and befriended during the peaceful times of Valinor. He was a determined and unrepentant follower of Fëanor, and though I was reluctant to leave my beautiful home, my loyalty was strong and I made the choice to journey with him. We made for the Helcaraxë and there we saw Mandos and heard the Doom that was placed upon the Ñoldor and we were afraid. Finarfin turned back then with his host, but his children continued on, his sons and his daughter, Galadriel.

At the mouth of the Helcaraxë he hesitated and there tried to decide what to do next, for the Helcaraxë was cold and dark with deep mists that allowed no light and a bitter cold that bit us to our bones. There in the dark we were betrayed. Fëanor took counsel with his sons and in secret he slipped away with those loyal to him and left us to face the Grinding Ice. When they sailed across they burned the ships and we could see the light from afar and knew we had been forsaken by Fëanor. Thus, we were forced to travel across the frozen wasteland and I followed with loyalty after Turgon with his host.

I was alone on this journey as I watched families and warriors band together. I had no mother, no father, no children... But I felt a deep sense of love and care for those around me.

Dark were the years that followed and we lost many. Among them was Elenwë, wife of Turgon. The grinding ice broke beneath her and she was swept into the icy current. I traveled close to the younger ones, keeping them in my sights as constantly as I could, for I feared losing them to the dark. I felt the pain and regret of failure and I dreaded going through it again as I tended to those around me. We were not prepared for this dark cold, the wind and the snow and the darkness that haunted us. For so long we did not see light or feel warmth.

Many did not survive, and I dare to say I was thankful and envied those who died, for they were free of this torment as we endured the hellish Helcaraxë. In truth and comparison our journey was short in the eyes of the long lived elves, but in the endless night and cold it felt like forever. When finally we set foot on Middle Earth and saw the moon and the sun, before it had been only stars and now there was light and dark together. I, and many others, wept with both joy and sorrow. Gone was our home, the sweet Aman, but so was our trek across the Helcaraxë and never shall I forsake the sweet warmth and light of the Sun, nor will I forget the cold dark and the horrors of the Helcaraxë.

Slowly we worked to build a new life for ourselves in this land. I had no family here, but that was not something that bothered me. Turgon and Finrod were told to create a refuge; this refuge would become Gondolin. I aided them where I could, though my part was small. In the First Age 64 Turgon finally began building Gondolin and I, as well as many others, helped to build this great hidden city. It took nearly seventy-five years to build, but finally it was finished and we had a home once more. Turgon brought his people to it and we lived in comfort.

Gondolin was divided into twelve Houses, one of which I was placed as leader. It was a startling honour and I had not expected it, though I welcomed it gladly and tended to my House carefully. I found it suited me well, as I finally had people to look after. Perhaps I did not have family of my own, but I had gained people to love and care for as family in my House and I did so with pride. Again we saw smiles, again we heard laughter. Again I saw people dance and sing in this land, my home. Not my chosen home, but one I would love and protect. It was beautiful in the light and I was amazed at all I had missed in the darkness that Middle Earth had started out in. Ecthelion, my closest and dearest friend, became Lord of the House of the Fountain and we lingered together often in the gardens. He had the most beautiful voice of any I had ever heard and I would listen to him sing and play his flute for hours.

The First Age of this land passed, but I did not see its ending. Our beautiful city was betrayed by one we had taken in, and the battle that followed was long and hard. I fought to protect those around me, but as we made our escape we were followed by a Balrog and I knew I had to stay and hold it off. The battle was long, but finally I was victorious and threw down my enemy. He was quick, however, and in a moment of weariness I let down my guard and was grabbed by my hair and pulled down to my death.

My spirit passed into the Halls of Mandos, where I expected to wait with the Ñoldor whose Fate I had shared. As grace would have it, however, the Valar saw fit to bless me with an early pardon and restore me to my life in Aman. I was given my body back and for several hundred years I enjoyed the peace and serenity of my blessed home once more.

I enjoyed the company that I had left behind and met a most glorious spirit, Olórin. I sat in his company for countless hours, listening to his words and enjoying his company. I have since become a faithful believer and follower of him, even to this day. I trust his judgment and none can sway me.

My time in Aman, however, was again not to last, for I was sent once more to Middle Earth, this time across the Sea with the Blue Wizards. Middle Earth was in turmoil as Mairon, one of the Maia of Aulë and a corrupted follower of Morgoth, had followed closely in his Master's footsteps. Once he was beautiful, but now he was fearful and evil.

Calling himself Sauron, his aims were different from Morgoth's in that he wished to dominate the minds and wills of the peoples of the land, and call himself ruler over Arda. I, for one, was determined not to allow yet another Dark Lord to marr the land I had come to call home.

I was sent to aid Gil-galad and Elrond in their struggle against Sauron, and so it was that with a great force I set off to face the host of the Witch-king of Angmar in the Battle of Fornost. We crushed the enemy host and the Witch-king himself fled at the sight of me. A fact that leaves me humbled and embarrassed. I stilled the armies in their intent to follow him and spoke that he would not return to this land. Far off yet was his doom, and not by the hand of man would he fall.

With the battle over, I adopted the Ñoldor as my people once more and remained in Imladris with Lord Elrond and his people. I watch over him and his children with tender care, and though I once resided among the Vanyar, there was a time when we were all one great people. It matters little to me what an elf may call himself, for I feel love and affection for all my kin and will protect them to my last breath.


End file.
